Searching for hope
by skaltu
Summary: AU: Hope doesn't awake with the others after Cocoon has been saved.
1. Chapter 1

Although no one was there to see it, the crystal of the sole Pulse l'Cie left slowly began to shine. It took around twelve hours for it to be completely engulfed in a bright light. Moments later, there was no crystal there anymore. Instead, a boy shakily stood on the ground. The light was gone before he could open his eyes. It was as if he had always been there, of flesh and blood, and not cold crystal. To him, this was exactly the case.

* * *

Hope Estheim stared at the crystallized Cocoon as he thought of his companions. Who knew how many years he'd been asleep? One, two, five, ten? Even if the others were alive, would they even remember him? Would they even care to speak to him again?

He was _alone._

Not even the relief of seeing his l'Cie brand gone could completely overshadow this frightening realization.

He had no idea who ruled ruled civilisation, if such a thing still existed. No idea where to go, whom to talk to. No magic, no weapons. He was just a helpless kid in the middle of the wilderness, and with no family nor anywhere to call home.

A chilly wind flew by. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to conserve as much body heat as possible, but thanks to his light clothes it didn't do much good. It was obviously late on the year. He couldn't stay still here for much longer.

He turned around, hoping to see something, a house or a town or anything he could walk towards. He found nothing of the sort, but instead a small metal box caught his eyes, lying on the ground a few feet from him. Quickly walking up to it, he saw that it wasn't looking very old, but it was hard to decide. It didn't squeak when he opened it, so he took that as a good sign. Inside was a comm device, and a note. He quickly grabbed the note and read it.

_Hope, when you're reading this, quickly dial the first contact on the comm. Wait for us to come and get you. Don't wander off. If anyone but us comes by and tries to make you come with them, refuse. Do not go with them! _

_Please wake up soon. We miss you._

No signature. It was likely it was the others who'd written it. The last sentences managed to make him smile, despite the lack of information the letter held.

Hope shook his head and skimmed through the words again. Why was it so important he had to go with them, and not anyone else?

There was no indication of how long ago the note was written, or how long he'd been in crystal stasis. It frustrated him. Hadn't they listened to Vanille and Fang when they explained just how confused they had been when they woke up?

The amount of information he was given from the letter wasn't nearly to his satisfaction. What was going on? What had happened to Cocoon to make it crystallized? Were Fang and Vanille okay?

Though, in his heart, he probably knew where Fang and Vanille were. It was probably thanks to them Cocoon hadn't crashed into Pulse, and they had sacrificed themselves for it. Hope felt his heart sink when he understood their fate.

He pocketed the note and picked up the comm and turned it on and searched for the first connection. Just a bunch of numbers, no names. He was beginning to feel pretty pissed off. Why all this discretion?

_At least I have an excuse if I screw it up somehow..._

He raised a numb thumb and dialed the number. Every second that slowly crawled by with nobody answering felt like an eternity.

_It's been too long, no one's gonna answer. Just-_

One minute… two, three… he gave up when he counted to 300 seconds and flipped the device shut.

_Stupid. Of course it's been too long. You just had to stay as a crystal for several hundred years, did you!?_

He knew it wasn't his, or anyone else's, fault, but it was hard to find someone else to blame at that moment. He envied Fang and Vanille, because at least they had had each other when they woke up in a time far, far away from their own. Shaking his head furiously, he tried calling again. And again. One more time. Despair spread throughout his body, making his breath hitch in his throat. Feeling a lump in his windpipe and swallowing profusely, Hope did his best not to let his eyes water. This wasn't the time for crying, and it wouldn't make anything better

"Dammit!" he cried out, voice thick, slamming the comm shut for the umpteenth time and considering snapping it in half. Instead he threw the it back into the box. It was strange, but he wished he could go back to crystal sleep again. It was starting to get really cold now. And dark. He did not want to stay in this open area any longer. Looking back at the crystallized Cocoon, he realized he had no choice but to go there, even if it went against the wishes of whoever had written the letter.

He dropped the box back on the ground and slowly turned towards his former home. It looked gray and gloomy in the autumn darkness, and it hurt to see it in this state. It didn't invoke much of his namesake in Hope, doing his best to keep his spirits up as he slowly began to wander in its direction.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! Thank you for all the alerts, favorites, and, not the least, reviews! I did not expect such responses! thank you! Anyway, I'm sorry for the lateness. At least I got it done before the new year, huh? Hope you enjoy, and reviews are very welcome!

* * *

"You need to shave, babe," Serah remarked. She quickly hid her smile behind her tea cup when Snow studied his reflection on the coffee pot.

"Yeah? I think it makes me look harder, and cooler," he mused while stroking his gloved hand against the stubble, which was just starting to look like a beard.

Just barely audibly, Lightning scoffed from the kitchen table where she did maintenance on her gunblade. The soft clinks of metal easily drowned the small noise.

"Trust me, it does not suit you." Serah giggled with an amused glance at her sister before looking at her husband again.

"Oh yeah? Says who, except you?" Snow countered, crossing his arms and finally tearing his eyes away from the coffee pot.

"Well, let me just say that Maqui and Yuj did not laugh at some inside joke for several hours yesterday."

Snow managed to hide the stunned expression pretty well, but his eyes widened just a little. "Oh. I guess I'll go fix that now then," he muttered, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"You've never forgotten before," Serah pointed out.

Snow shrugged, already turning from her. "I guess I'm just a little preoccupied today."

Snow disappeared f

rom the room, and Serah leaned against the counter when she noticed that the comm receiver was blinking. She quickly picked it up and saw that they had missed four calls from an unknown receiver. Staring at the number, she tried to remember who it was. Then it hit her. It was from the comm they'd left near that child in crystal stasis.

"Oh no," she breathed. It had been two hours since the last call. She put down her cup and called back immediately.

"Serah?" Lightning inquired, looking up from her weapon just as she finished putting it back together. When Serah didn't respond, Lightning stood up, instinctively sheathing her gunblade, and quickly went over to her.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Serah chanted quietly as the tone continued to ring, but it ended in a flat 'busy' beep. "Come on!"

Lightning put two and two together. She mouthed 'Hope?', and quickly rushed out of the room when Serah nodded, eyes closed in slight frustration.

"Snow!" Serah shouted, dialed again and hurried to relay the information to Sazh and Dajh in the living room.

* * *

"How long's it been?" Lightning asked as Sazh began to fly the airship. It had only taken them a few minutes to get to it. Thankfully,

"Almost three hours," Serah answered breathlessly. She glanced at Snow's face, which was blank.

"So, what if the Sanctum's gotten there first?" he said. He punched in the coordinates and cast an eye at Lightning, who sat next to him in the passenger seat. Her jaw had clenched tight. "We'd have no way of knowing whether the SRI has taken him, or if he's gone off on his own."

"I wrote that he should wait for us. He's not an idiot," Lightning said flatly, crossing her arms threateningly as if that's what Sazh had implied.

"That's not what I said. It's around zero degrees," he said, eyebrows scrunched up in worry and concentration. "And it's been three hours."

It was quiet for the remainder of the flight. Serah didn't dare say anything, even though she felt that the silence was suffocating. She could tell that both Snow and Lightning were beating themselves up over not having answered immediately.

* * *

"Is this really the right place?" Serah asked quietly to no one in particular. She wrapped her arms around her chest in an attempt to conserve as much body heat as possible. It was really cold out.

"Found the comm," Snow called out about ten yards away from the airship. He threw the box on the ground. "Goddamnit!"

He took off in the direction of Cocoon, hoping he wouldn't have strayed too far.

"So, now we can't track him either," Lightning said. She sighed, and asked Serah to enter the ship again before briskly walking away in the opposite direction of Snow.

"Hope!" Snow shouted a few times. He had broken out in a small jog to keep himself warm. Despite his trench coat, he was still freezing. He didn't want to think of how cold Hope was.

"Dammit, kid, where'd you go!?" he muttered to himself. There was no possible way of knowing where he was, or if the Sanctum Research Institute had gotten ahold of him already. It wasn't exactly like they'd tell them.

An airship flew by above him. He snapped his head up and could just barely make out the Sanctum insignia on it. It was headed towards where their own airship was.

"You sons of-" Snow bellowed before taking off into a sprint towards the others. He knew the SRI had expressed no intentions of hurting any of them, but one couldn't take enough precautions with those people.

He managed to get there just in time to see that it had landed right next to their ship, before it took off.

"Serah!" he shouted, completely out of breath. He glanced at the Sanctum ship, seeing it was heading towards Cocoon again. It was either very good, or very bad. On one hand, it could mean that they weren't searching for Hope, on the other it could mean they had already found him and was heading towards the SRI HQ.

"We're okay, they didn't even care about us," Serah said quickly, standing up from the table when her husband barged through the door.

"You find him?" Sazh shot out. Snow's expression fell, and the older man looked away.

"What'd the Sanctum do here?" Snow asked after a few moments of silence. He put his arm around Serah's shoulder and pulled her close when she shivered from the cold air.

"They pretty much just landed, had someone investigate the area before they took off again. Didn't cast as much as a glance at us."

"They must've tracked our airship," Serah shot out, voice muffled from where her face was buried in her husband's chest. "It's weird though. They didn't even try and check to see if we had brought him inside."

"Just took off," Sazh finished, shaking his head in bewilderment.

Lightning appeared in the doorway, with no Hope in tow, and nobody dared nor felt the need to ask how her search went. Sazh decided they had to call it a night, and flew them back to New Bodhum.

As they reached the town, Sazh hurried over to the house to pick up Dajh and go home. Serah followed quickly, longing for a cup of hot tea to warm herself up.

Snow clenched the comm device in his hand. If Hope had woken up just a few hours earlier or later, they would have answered his calls. But… maybe he wasn't back. Maybe they were just getting spooked over nothing. Almost two years had passed. Such a random time to wake up in. It didn't make sense.

"We're gonna find him," Lightning spoke up. Her back was turned to Snow, but her voice told him of her expression clearly. She didn't give him a chance to respond, as she briskly walked up to the house. Snow followed her, nodding to himself. That they would.


	3. White Confusion

**This is my first published fanfiction ever. I guess you can tell huh? I've forgotten to reply to your wonderful reviews, so, over a month too late, I'll do it now. **

(chapter 1)fRAC: Yes, my chapters are a little short, hopefully I'll remember to make them longer!

(chapter 1)BicolourRaptor: Thank you!

(chapter 1)Black Lotus13: Yes, poor Hope! I seem to like making him sad... I'm evil!

(chapter 1) .rain: *accepts* Thank you!

(chapter 2)Black Lotus13: Ahah, I hope I won't disappoint you!

(chapter 2)Renascielle: Thank you! Yeah, my chapters are probably too short. I'm going to try and make them longer from now on, and I hope this chapter now will be better in both length and description!

**Anywho, here we go! **

* * *

No civilization in sight. He could see the base of the pillar from where he stood now, and nothing. Not even a small base at its foot. No airships flying around. He couldn't even distinguish any light coming from the cities inside of Cocoon. Every footstep toward it felt heavier and heavier, not only because of the rising fatigue Hope felt. He stopped, tearing his eyes away from the crystallized sphere and slouching his upper body toward the ground. He rested his hands on his knees and heaved a deep, forlorn sigh.

Pulse was huge. When he and the other l'Cie had crossed the Archylte Steppes to get to Oerba, Fang had remarked that those plains were only a mere fragment of the giant planet. At least ten times larger than Cocoon. Even if there was a settlement somewhere, how would he ever find it? He couldn't traverse the fields of Gran Pulse himself, especially since he didn't have any means of defending himself, or any supplies, or warm enough clothes, for Eden's sake!

Things did not look good. He clutched the worn fabric on his knees, swallowing over and over in an attempt to not let the strangled cry in his throat slip out. Last thing he needed was to attract some starving behemoth's attention, or something like that. He caught himself almost wishing that would happen, shook his head and forced his body straight.

Knowing he had already remained in one place for too long, and feeling that his numb joints protested because of it, Hope took up his pace again and tried to push away the doubt clawing at his chest. There could be some people living in Cocoon. It was worth a shot, especially since he knew no other place to look.

He had only walked for a few more minutes when the sound of an airship was heard from behind. It flew over his head just as he spun around to confirm it. He recognized the Sanctum insignia on it and gradually stopped walking, biting back the instinct to yell for it. It had slowed down considerably, and landed just a few hundred yards away from him. One part of him felt relief, while another was concerned that it was a Sanctum airship. They weren't exactly his allies.

Feeling unease rising when a door opened on its side, a ramp descending from it, Hope wondered whether he should run away or not. But he knew it would be pointless. He was too tired, cold and confused.

Two military persons walked down the ramp from the airship and quickly jogged up to him. The woman grabbed his shoulder, while the man felt his pulse for some reason. Hope flinched when they touched him, and their smiles did little to reassure him. Of course, his suspicions were strengthened when he felt something sharp sting his neck. Only for a few seconds, after that everything seemed to fade away.

For some reason, his last thoughts, before unconsciousness claimed him completely, were of Lightning. She was looking down at him where he lay, shaking her head in disapproval, as if he'd failed some sort of test by letting himself get sedated that easily.

He promised her, and himself, that he would do better next time.

* * *

Hope's first coherent thought, as he slowly began to wake, was how warm and soft the bed he was lying in was. He let himself simply enjoy the sensation for several minutes, content with just that.

Though, he couldn't stay like that forever, staying ignorant of his situation. Opening his eyes was the first step.

A white ceiling was what he found himself staring up at. The contrast was so stark he had to immediately close his eyes again.

It took him a few seconds, but eventually, he could discover his surroundings with no difficulty. It was a small room, white. It reminded him of a hospital room, but there was no such equipment. In fact, there was pretty much nothing in it. Just a plain bed, a small drawer and a tiny window. He immediately tried to look through it, but it was no use. It was as thick as his body, and completely blurred.

He did some slow movements to confirm that nothing hurt. He realized after he had thrown the blanket off that someone had bathed and clothed him in a white pyjamas. He felt uncomfortable with the intrusion in his privacy, and wanted his own clothes. He looked around one more time, scanned the corners, looking for surveillance cameras in them, but saw nothing. He did discover a weird thing by the door however. A small box with some sort of speaker on it. Staring at it would answer no questions though. Just as he were to stand up from the bed, it crackled. The sound was so sharp it made Hope jump. A voice was heard moments later, and it confirmed his suspicions that he was indeed being watched.

"_Get dressed_," was all it said, then the static disappeared. Hope froze for several seconds, then he slowly inched his hand towards the small dresser and pulled open the first drawer.

There were no clothes in it, but the sight made him feel a lot better for a little while. His boomerang was lying there. However, picking it up made him realize they had modified it. The edges were no longer sharp, and its much lighter weight told him that the AMP modifier had been removed. It couldn't be classified as anything dangerous whatsoever now, and it made him feel oddly infuriated. It wasn't the same. He wondered why they had even bothered with giving it to him at all.

He dropped it back in the drawer and opened the next. A toiletry bag, judging by its appearance. He was just about to examine its content when he remembered that he was supposed to get dressed. He quickly pulled back the third drawer and found what he supposed were his clothes for the moment. Gray normal pants, gray shirt, gray socks, gray everything. The lack of colors made him feel a bit disappointed. He'd always liked colorful clothes, and he wished he at least had had his scarf. But boring clothes were better than no clothes, so he picked them up and put them on the bed.

In search for a pair of shoes, Hope opened the fourth and final drawer and discovered to his delight that his own pair of sneakers were there. His clothes may be nothing what he'd preferred, but at least his shoes were his own. It made him feel safer, even if just a little.

As soon as he was done tying his shoes, the door opened. Hope jerked his head up in time to see a tall, lab coat-donning woman walking into the room. Hope opened his mouth to say something, but her expression made him feel uneasy. There was absolutely no hint of emotion on her face, and her eyes didn't meet Hope's. They were stubbornly staring at something above his head. He held off the instinct to turn his head.

"Hope Estheim, age physically 14, former Pulse l'Cie, the only child of Bartholomew Estheim and the late Nora Estheim?" she recited mechanically as if she was reading off a script. It took him a few moments of uncomfortable silence to realize that she was waiting for a confirmation from him.

"Uh, yeah," he managed to blurt out. She walked out without another word. Hope was still thinking about how she hadn't referred to his father as 'late', as if he was alive... Maybe this wasn't so far in the future after all. Knowing there was a slight possibility that he may have at least someone left in his life made him feel a little bit happier about everything.

She returned with a chair and a clipboard, sitting as far away as possible, which only was a few feet away.

"Please only respond with yes or no," she ordered, sitting down and clicking the top of a pen. Hope wondered if she was human or not. Everything about her seemed robotic.

"Are you aware of where you are?" was the first question.

Hope almost countered it with another question, but quickly managed to catch himself before doing so. "No."

She checked a box. "Are you aware of how many years you have spent in crystal stasis?"

How'd she know that? Hope's jaw fell just a little bit in surprise. He couldn't help himself. "How do you know that I've-"

"_Yes or no_?" she snapped, showing some emotion for the first time; annoyance. Hope stared at her in defiance before muttering a 'no'.

She went back to her robotic state, showing no signs of her little outburst. "When you were asleep, did you dream of anything?"

He felt hesitant about answering. Just what could she possibly benefit from this? "No."

"Was it like a dreamless sleep?"

Hope furrowed his brow as he tried to remember. There had been some glimpses here and there, but generally, there was nothing to remember. "Yes."

"Did it feel like you could've decided to wake up on your own at your own preferred time?"

But he had already told her he didn't know for how long he'd been out. Hope pursed his lips and shook his head. It qualified as an answer enough. He didn't want to actively answer questions.

It continued on in the same style. Oddly specific questions that left himself more and more confused. He desperately wanted to ask her something, but he didn't dare defy her once more.

She didn't say anything as they finished, but simply stood up and left the room without another word. Hope's tongue almost hurt of desire to shout some questions after her.

She had left the door open, but didn't return herself. Hope stared at the white corner he could see from the doorway. Slowly, as if testing the rules, standing up from the bed, he tensed with the expectation that he would be punished, in some way.

But no alarms sounded, nor did any red lights start to blink, as he had somewhat anticipated there would be, going from his previous experiences with the Sanctum. He tried to keep a normal pace as he walked up to and through the door. Outside was a short corridor that led to what seemed to be an elevator door. Right in front of his door was another door, with the letters WC on it.

Was that it? Was he allowed to leave? There were no guards around. He walked towards the elevator, but he found no way to open it. The feeling that he was being watched strengthened, and he snapped his head up toward the ceiling, expecting to see some security cameras or something. Despite that he didn't discover anything of the sort, it still felt like he was being surveillanced.

He opened the other door and revealed a tiny bathroom, just as white and sterile-looking as everything else. A toilet, a shower and a sink was all that was in it. He quickly stepped up to the sink, taking a few gulps of water and splashing some in his face. It was clean, much to his relief. Not that he hadn't really expected it to not be. Everything here reminded him of a hospital.

Maker, this situation confused him. What could they possibly want from him? If they were holding him prisoner… This facility was way too luxurious for that. Torture? Testing? He needed answers!

How long would he be here? Why was he here? Where was he? The questions whirled around in his head, stinging him all over. His head felt oddly numb. He staggered back to the bedroom again and sat down on the bed. There was nothing to entertain himself with. He picked up his boomerang and unfolded it. It really wasn't dangerous anymore. He could drag his palm along its edge as hard as he could, and nothing happened.

So helpless. He couldn't escape, he could only hope they wouldn't keep him for much longer, or at least inform him of something.

* * *

Every morning, for one year, five months, and ten days and counting, was the same.

Bartholomew Estheim awoke with a start in his dark and quiet house. His sleep hadn't been very refreshing, and he felt just as exhausted as he had done going to bed the night before, but he knew, from experience, that this was as good as it was going to get. He reached to turn on the bedside lamp, squinting when the sharp light stung his eyes. After his eyes had adjusted, he put on his glasses and went to take a short shower. Afterward, he got dressed in his usual clothes.

_"I trust you aren't in contact with the other former Pulse l'Cie?" Victoria Allen's blue-gray eyes were fixated to a point above Bartholomew's head. He was happy with the absence of eye contact, since her eyes weren't exactly pleasant to look into. He focused on her forehead instead._

_"No, ma'am." The lie rolled off his tongue smoothly. His eyes never swayed from the small wrinkle between her eyes. Of course he was still speaking to them. If he would have any chance getting his son before the SRI snatched him, he needed them. And they needed a person inside the Sanctum. While Bartholomew knew he wasn't important enough to know just when exactly Hope did wake up, it did help to have connections inside._

_"I'm sure you are aware of this, but we have access to every one of their lines. When your son awakes, and he calls from the communicator unit they have left near him, we will know immediately, and we will step in to ensure his safety."_

_Even though she revealed no more, he knew what would happen next. The Sanctum Research Institute would take his son as soon as he woke up, perform a series of tests on him, and hopefully manage to find a way to restore Cocoon to its former self, to remove it from its crystal shell and revive the dormant fal'Cie._

_"Understood." Though he certainly didn't approve._

_"You are dismissed."_

_Bartholomew nodded and stood up. When his back was turned to her, he finally let the disgusted grimace show._

There was no way they could let them get Hope. Not only was the idea of restoring Cocoon was… absurd, to say the least, according to Bartholomew, and a lot of other people still working for Sanctum, but Bartholomew didn't even know what kind of tests they would do on him. They thought a newly decrystallized person would give them the answer. They had apparently missed the time window with the others, and now their only chance lay in Hope, still a motion- and soundless crystal.

He wanted his son back. He wanted the only part left of his family back. His life was just so empty. Work. That was really all he did now. As soon as he had his son back, Bartholomew planned to quit his job at the Sanctum, or, more likely, get fired, and try to join the newly formed, independent research institute. Instead of trying to go back to things they were, like the Sanctum, this new party focused on trying to make life on Gran Pulse as livable as possible. Bartholomew wanted to help do that.

He thought… that's what Hope would have wanted.


End file.
